2016

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream” at Shakespeare’s Globe

12 May 2016 Edward Lukes

Emma Rice’s first production as artistic director at the Globe has provided controversy for the much-loved venue and tourist hotspot. Fans of Rice’s work with her previous company, Kneehigh, will recognise some techniques here. But applied to Shakespeare, her irreverence and inventiveness proves invigorating.

First a caution – for some odd folk – this approaches Dream: The Musical. No excuse necessary, but it is striking how much of the play is sung. Stu Barker’s score is accomplished, dramaturg Tanika Gupta’s lyrics (drawing on the Sonnets and John Donne) are exciting and the singing West End standard. There’s a clever Indian twist and an electric sitar, so let’s describe the sound as Bollywood Rock. Is Rice being provoking? I do hope so.

Raucous is de rigueur at the Globe but, for good or ill, Rice has upped the stakes. If it weren’t for fear of sounding hopelessly out of touch I’d suggest some age advisory warning. There were squeals of horror in the crowd at some pretty full-on audience participation.

The show is sexy – many clothes are shed – and the polymorphous sexuality in Shakespeare is emboldened. Most impressively, with the King and Queen roles played by Zubin Varla and cabaret star Meow Meow – both intense performers –their chemistry is captivating. We’re reminded how creepy Titania being “enamoured of an ass” really is and both stars hold the stage, despite too much going on.

There are reservations. When Beyoncé is first quoted, your heart might sink at such an easy appeal to a younger audience. There’s a great deal of movement and some of it is messy. With water pistols, crazy costumes and a lot of accents, it’s anything for a lark. And the problem? Too many lines are difficult to hear, even lost. Rice lands the laughs, but they often fall at the expense of Shakespeare or, more generously, use the play as merely a springboard.

The hyped gender-bending casting (which is hardly new) may have been seen before, but not with the bite that Rice manages. Katy Owen does a superb job as Puck, working the crowd brilliantly, despite that water pistol. The rude mechanicals are recast as women. Only Bottom remains male – Ewan Wardrop doing the guys proud. Updating the wannabe theatricals into Globe volunteers is sweet and leads to excellent cameos, especially for Lucy Thackeray, whose calm ad lib, “my nephew’s gay”, tickled me pink.

midsummer 3 — Ncuti Gatwa and Ankur Bahl

But it’s most with the Athenian lovers that Rice’s indiscretions are forgiven. Updating the couples into Hoxton hipsters is very funny. Ncuti Gatwa and Edmund Derrington make an energetic Demetrius and Lysander. Anjana Vasan gets roars of approval for her very modern Hermia. Ankur Bahl plays –hold on – Helenus, with wit and courage. There’s more to this decision than giving the line “ugly as a bear” a new twist. An uncomfortable response from some, admittedly young, audience members gives pause for thought. The Globe is a global institution (listen to how many visitors are from abroad). To see love between two men portrayed with complexity on such a stage is remarkable. There may be touches of over enthusiasm here but Rice balances public appeal with a radical streak that makes this show, and her direction, one of the most exciting things around.

Until 11 September 2016

www.shakespearesglobe.com

Photos by Steve Tanner

2016

“The Flick” at the National Theatre

8 May 2016 Edward Lukes

Annie Baker’s novel Pulitzer Prize-winning play is packed with offbeat humour. It’s a revelation that three cinema employees, sweeping up popcorn and just chatting, can be so engaging. The pace is slow, bravely so, yet this is one of the quickest three hours you could spend in a theatre.

The eponymous movie house is under threat – about to be converted from 35mm to digital projection. The new technology distresses cineaste cleaner Avery, on a break from his college film course, and puts the jobs of his colleagues at risk.

How films might influence self-presentation and how the characters, well, project themselves to one another is combined by subtly playing with the theme of performance. Time is taken to get to know these three and the result is curiously intimate, sincere and innocent: the trio become our friends.

Travelling with the production from America, Matthew Maher and Louisa Krause play the longer-term employees, so fully embodying their tragicomic roles that they are a privilege to watch. Theirs are moving and realistic stories of unrequited love against a backdrop of aimless existence that’s recognisable, believable and seldom staged.

jpeg 11_The Flick — Louisa Krause and JaygannAyeh

Fitting in perfectly with the show is Jaygann Ayeh as troubled college boy Avery. His coming-of-age story is the backbone of the piece, while carefully distanced from any film fodder. Again, it is the understatement that impresses – his toe-curling sexual encounter with Rose and budding yet doomed friendship with Sam all performed with a studied awkwardness that makes the character endearing.

Under the direction of Sam Gold, also with the show since its beginning, a fitting confidence marks the methodical pacing – think art house not Hollywood. It’s a refreshing change to see something so gentle, so quiet. And the speed serves to immerse you in the detail of these lives in a precise and controlled manner.

Baker’s ear for dialogue is superb. It might seem easy to put ‘like’ into every sentence but in this script the technique is credible and the low-key jokes are treasures. Despite the play’s length, it’s economy that’s the key. Sam’s question, asking if a new team member is “familiar with the oversize polo shirt” – that ubiquitous uniform for the underpaid – is something that will stay with anyone whose has ever had a ‘bad’ job.

A final point in favour of The Flick: workers in low-paid jobs with few aspirations are seldom the subjects of drama. Better still, with her unpatronising and realistic treatment of these frequently boring, frustrated lives, Baker goes behind the scenes to provide a drama about a new kind of working class that makes her play one of the most original around.

Until 15 June 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Mark Douet

2016

“The Lovers of Viorne” at The Theatre Room, 6 Frederick’s Place

5 May 2016 Edward Lukes

Director James Roose-Evans’ new project, Frontier Theatre, aims to promote older talent. The actors in their third age (their term, not mine) in this premiere production indicate that the company will have no difficulty finding performers. The play chosen is more problematic. Marguerite Duras’ text (translated by Barbara Bray) is rooted in post-war French philosophy. Ostensibly a mystery story, based on a sensational murder, the biggest puzzle is the play itself.

A long way from a whodunit (the confession has been heard and motive is talked about a lot), even the why seems beneath Duras. Existential angst fills the play: talk of dreams, freedom and “seething” alienation, while family ties and religion get predictably short shrift. Unashamedly intellectual and, to be honest, somewhat hard work, you can practically see the Gauloises cigarette smoke and imagine yourself on the Left Bank.

Which is not to say that the production isn’t superbly well done. Roose-Evans’ direction reveals his experience, superbly controlled and sharing Duras’ intellectual vigour. The direction benefits the play with taught pacing and, without frills, enforces its seriousness.

First we meet the husband of the murderer. A philandering egotistical figure, blunt and articulate, impeccably delivered by Martin Turner. There’s a strong sense of the man’s inner life, grasping Duras’ psychological insight, even as we mostly hear about his wife, Claire.
When we meet this murderess, it’s electric. Charlotte Cornwell’s performance is a marvel as this proud, pained, haphephobic psychopath. As a study of a peculiar kind of madness, Cornwall’s performance gains considerable power from understatement – she really has you on the edge of your seat.

A younger actor, Kevin Trainor, takes the largest part of The Investigator. That’s right, he doesn’t have a name, and pains are taken to point out he isn’t a policeman. Trainer does well with this flat role, injecting a primness and energy that almost brings him to life. But the character is so clearly a device, full of clever theories, that he quickly becomes tiresome.

What ‘facts’ exist in the mystery are broken down by Duras with skill. Trainor’s monosyllabic final speeches are perfectly handled. While the openness of the text is an achievement that might stimulate, be warned, it is also frustrating and uncompromising. Nonetheless, one of Frontier Theatre’s aims is to produce master classes using its participants’ wide theatre experience, and this show ticks that box right from the start.

Until 21 May 2016

www.frontiertheatreproductions.co.uk

Photos by Oscar Blustin

2016

“My Mother Said I Never Should” at the St James Theatre

1 May 2016 Edward Lukes

Charlotte Keatley’s acclaimed play was one of the first I ever saw, leaving a profound impression that, I’m pleased to say, is retained by this revival. The story of four women from one family, the action covers most of the 20th century and uses a non-chronological structure that was once regarded as radical. Going backwards and forwards in time has made the play influential. More importantly, this time-travelling technique elevates an interesting domestic drama into something extra special.

Flitting through the decades makes the women’s shared experiences bristle with connections. Family and motherhood link them, while their marriages and experience of work differ. This is the first production from a new company, Tiny Fires, led by producer Tara Finney and director Paul Robinson. Clearly excited by the prestige of the piece, history is emphasised – fair enough – and the ‘progress’ for women is examined carefully. But I’d argue this isn’t the heart of the play. There’s too much focus on generational differences rather than similarities here.

What can’t be disputed is that, by showing the women throughout their lives, Keatley created four remarkable roles for performers. Serena Manteghi and Katie Brayben take on the younger parts, full of energy and angst. And ably stepping into the role of Margaret mid-production is Hilary Tones (replacing Caroline Faber). The star casting comes with Maureen Lipman in the role of Doris. Given Lipman’s skills, it’s no surprise that comedy leaps to the fore (there are lessons that Manteghi and Brayben will surely learn). But there’s more than laughs here. Remember, the role goes from infancy to old age and, at the conclusion, Lipman switches from a great-grandmother to a young fiancée – the phrase tour de force could have been invented for her character.

Yet more astounding, it’s the quieter, emotional scenes that Lipman pulls out the stops for, highlighting the pervasive repression that Keatley writes of. Churlish as it sounds, Lipman’s achievement unbalances the show. Doris does have many of the best lines, but all four characters share the quality of having “no sense of compromise” and this could come across more clearly. It’s a small flaw that doesn’t stop all four women, precisely defined, convey themes that have that often-searched-for quality of timelessness in a play that is both compelling and moving.

Until 21 May 2016

www.stjamestheatre.co.uk

Photo courtesy Savannah Photographic

2016

“Doctor Faustus” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

28 April 2016 Edward Lukes

Smartphone screens light up the auditorium before this show begins, indicating that the crowd drawn by Jamie Lloyd’s new production is young and, it’s safe to guess, here for leading man Kit Harington. Good on Lloyd for making an Elizabethan (see below) play trendy. With creepy touches, bold humour and brilliant theatricality it feels as if you’re in with the cool crowd.

Harington is, thankfully, highly credible as the scholar who sells his soul to the devil. He wears just pants for a lot of the play, and even shows his bum a couple of times, but he gives a focused performance that demands to be taken seriously. Harington works well with the ensemble, even joining the innovative dance sections. It isn’t just a physique that is eye-catching here – Polly Bennett’s movement direction adds a sense of adventure, while the lighting design from Jon Clark is stunning.

I might be one of a small number whose real draw to the show isn’t the Game of Thrones star but Jenna Russell, who plays Mephistopheles. Odd I know. Russell’s brilliant performance made my night, with an uncanny ability to be physically threatening, as well as showing the sorrowful side of this fallen angel, creating a moving, grieving quality. Lloyd even gets some songs out of a great vocalist – Kylie’s ‘Better The Devil You Know’ and Meatloaf’s ‘Bat Out of Hell’.

The eclectic mix of music filling the show brings us to its modern additions: Christopher Marlowe’s opening and concluding scenes bookend a new play by Colin Teevan. Things start well by enforcing Faustus’ desire for celebrity. Miming air guitar, the doctor is on the party scene – told to “Sin big. Sin famously” – he’s a magician, clever, with servant Wagner reimagined as a woman called Grace who he falls in love with. Teevan adds compassion as well as contemporary touches that a modern audience easily relates to.

Later satire with attempts at topicality fall flat: bankers, businessmen, Obama, Cameron, Pope Francis and a particularly nasty scene with the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge have parallels with Marlowe’s seven deadly sins. But the real-life characters are dealt with too crassly. Lloyd likes to shock, and this production will go too far for many, me included, but it is to his credit that he reminds us of theatre’s power to be subversive. Introducing a new audience to this force is something magical.

Until 25 June 2016

www.atgtickets.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

2016

“Deathwatch” at The Print Room

27 April 2016 Edward Lukes

Lurid, dense and poetic, Jean Genet’s play is revived with an expert translation by David Rudkin. We join three prisoners in a cell who say they will be “the slow death of each other”. The felons plot a murder, while creating a hierarchy of criminality that baffles as much as it intrigues. Genet said the play should unfold as in a dream and director Geraldine Alexander bears the dictate in mind, so this is a style that won’t appeal to all. Cryptic and cerebral, it’s an experience that’s dazzling, but might leave you dazed.

The cell is a cube reminiscent of cage fighting, placed in a circus ring with sawdust on the floor. The design from Lee Newby fits the play perfectly and The Print Room’s (newish) home at the Coronet only adds to the atmosphere. With an impressive lighting rig utilised by David Plater, the production values are top notch. As are the performances – there’s outstanding acting here. The murderer Green-Eyes, awaiting execution, has the most “clout” in the cell and the character’s animal magnetism and poetic fervour are convincingly portrayed by Tom Varey, showing the twisted depths of Genet’s writing. The cellmates share an obsession with Green-Eyes. Lefranc’s crimes may be “hot air” but he becomes a chilling figure through a balanced performance from Danny Lee Wynter. And Maurice is confrontationally played as a “screaming Queen” by Joseph Quinn, who gives a professional stage debut of great detail that bodes well for his future career.

All three roles are challenging. Unlike most (maybe all) crime fiction, Genet isn’t interested in the personal motivation behind crime. Backstories are suggested, but can they be trusted? Philosophy is explored as much as psychology. All this could ring alarm bells – or excite. Call me slow, I wanted more pauses – time for everything to stop and slow down – allowing an opportunity to drink in the language. Instead Alexander’s emphasis is on the tension, so fair enough. A more justifiable quibble is that even in this strong production the depth of Genet’s text isn’t plumbed, with the roles of brute force and mindless violence neglected. Nonetheless, an exceptional show.

Until 7 May 2016

www.the-print-room.org

2016

“Show Boat” at the New London Theatre

27 April 2016 Edward Lukes

Daniel Evans, director of this latest revival, describes Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II’s Show Boat as “the mother of all musicals”. It’s old – a first version dates from 1927 – so it’s safe to say that the songs have stood the test of time. Serious subject matter – a troubled love story with a backdrop of racism in the Deep South – carries a message of tolerance. And while the piece is not exactly timeless, this brilliant production makes it considerably more than a period curiosity.

Sandra Marvin (Queenie) and Emmanuel Kojo (Joe)

Rave reviews from the production’s premiere in Sheffield, and the reason the show unquestionably deserves all those stars, come from high production values and the performances secured by Evans. Lez Brotherson’s design screams that it’s a big bucks show. The action is held together by Malcolm Sinclair, as the showboat captain, and there are stand out performances from Sandra Marvin as Queenie and Emmanuel Kojo, who sings that famous anthem to the Mississippi. As for the leads, the lovers Magnolia and Gaylord, Gina Beck and Chris Peluso are real stars at the top of their game.

But what to do with all the history? Despite noble intentions, it’s impossible not to see Show Boat as uncomfortably racist, not to mention sexist and snobbish. Black characters are the backdrop here, no matter how much Evans tries to refocus our attention. And all those gals who ‘Can’t Help Loving Dat Man’ need a talking to. Wisely, Evans accentuates the affirmative with a view of the family – extended by theatrical camaraderie – that gives pause for thought and makes this a feel-good evening.

Drama arrives unexpectedly on the river, the years pass glibly and resolution is minimal. Love at first sight and characters bursting into song, well, that’s what fools who dislike musicals complain of. And, let’s be honest, the characters here are wafer thin and everyone’s heart is permanently on their sleeve. But, with a somewhat luxurious pacing, Evans doesn’t bother with excuses or gimmicks that try to update the experience. This show has earned respect – let’s call it old fashioned and enjoy it.

Until 27 August 2016

www.showboatmusical.co.uk

Photographs by Johan Persson

2016

“Down & Out in Paris and London” at the New Diorama Theatre

24 April 2016 Edward Lukes

In 90 minutes of theatre that packs a punch, David Byrne brings George Orwell’s titular memoir, about living in poverty in Paris, to the stage with energy and invention. And there’s more. Updating the issues and action, the down and out in London comes from investigative journalist Polly Toynbee’s recent book, Hard Work. The two are interwoven with skill and the rewards are plentiful.

There’s a literary and biographical journey here that proves fascinating in its own right. Headed by an excellent performance from Richard Delaney, who we see develop from Eric Blair into Orwell through his time abroad. The degree of sympathy between Orwell and fellow residents in a flea-bitten hotel, or his exhausted kitchen co-workers, shines through. Karen Ascoe, who plays Toynbee, shares the ability to engender a sense of outrage as both retell the depressing consequences of penury. The writers also share a sense of guilt about their time as ‘tourists’ in the different world that the poor inhabit, with a sincerity that is essential to the success of the show.

A respectful tone is adopted when representing those the writers met, although it seems fair to say that Orwell’s encounters are more richly painted, especially in his friend Boris, a role embraced by Andy McLeod. With imaginative touches, Byrne, who also directs, has three performers (Mike Aherne, Andrew Stafford-Baker and Stella Taylor) flitting seamlessly from the 1920s to the present day, playing both the rich and the poor. The parallels drawn bring home the hopelessness of poverty and how little has changed for those at the bottom of society, making this an appropriately frustrating piece of theatre that everyone should see.

Until 21 May 2016

www.newdiorama.com

Photos by Richard Davenport

2016

“The Suicide” at the National Theatre

14 April 2016 Edward Lukes

There are some interesting ideas lurking within Suhayla El-Bushra’s new version of Nikolai Erdman’s comedy. The basis is brilliant – when a man announces he will take his own life he becomes hounded by those looking to use his death for their own ends. You might guess that the production updates the action to modern-day London (doesn’t everything?). More surprisingly, the satirical target is moved from Soviet Russia, not to the greed and inequality in our own times, but to left-leaning well- meaning folk. And El-Bushra replaces the State with social media – a neat move that offers insight and great satirical potential (after all, you can’t exaggerate online excess). Unfortunately, neither of these twists actually makes the play funnier than its original premise.

Mocking a desperate group of people living on a council estate is in questionable taste, aside from coming close to sitcom or reality TV show territory. More importantly, the treatment just isn’t witty enough. The script has a few risqué jokes but hardly any big laughs and a reliance on bad language for punchlines that is offensive in being so lazy. Director Nadia Fall doesn’t help, using a great-looking set (by Ben Stones) in a cumbersome manner and adding music and dance – presumably to appeal to a young audience – that may be good, but slows things down. There are frantic scenes, which the cast are well choreographed for, but the energy is wasted as stops and starts ruin the pace.

The collection of stereotypes that come to hassle our hero Sam aren’t all badly written. There’s a café-owning ex-PR girl, a teacher-performance-poet, local councillor, mental health worker, an old friend trying to hide an affair and assorted local youths. It’s a long play. All look for Sam to take the blame for something and to make a ‘statement’. But there’s an inverse relationship between characters where the satire has real bite, such as a despicable documentary filmmaker, and disappointing performances. Jokes are wasted with one-note delivery. Then some strong comic potential (Lizzie Winkler and Ayesha Antoine) isn’t given enough to do. It’s tempting to see an element of bad luck for El-Bushra here.

My intention was attend the scheduled press night, which was then postponed due to the indisposition of the lead, Javone Prince – surely the biggest misfortune for the show. However, the poorly presented main character is reduced to little more than a foolish bore, while scenes of Sam’s home life with his wife (a hard-working Rebecca Scroggs) and mother-in-law (the always excellent Ashley McGuire) achieve little. Yet the role was a triumph for Prince’s understudy, Adrian Richards, who gave a performance that has made me want to post this review despite it being, strictly speaking, about a preview. Richards’ comic timing is among the best of the night and he managed to give Sam a lost, youthful, appeal. Richards’ valiant efforts lifted the atmosphere for the whole evening. Luck at last, but little to do with the show’s actual merits.

Until 25 June 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

2016

“In the bar of a Tokyo Hotel” at the Charing Cross Theatre

12 April 2016 Edward Lukes

With the benefit of director Robert Chevara’s intelligent handling, here’s an unmissable opportunity to see a rarely performed late work by Tennessee Williams. This startlingly innovative play, which ruthlessly examines a broken marriage, shows Williams’ unique and challenging voice in a new light.

Mark is a successful artist who believes he has made a breakthrough with his painting, with a new style that has clear parallels with Williams’ writing. According to his sexually ferocious wife Miriam, he has simply gone mad. Aggressive advances toward a barman fill Miriam’s time as she waits for Mark’s agent to arrive and take him away – she’s had enough of him and his art.

These are tough roles that Chevara supervises carefully. David Whitworth is entirely credible as the (literally) unstable, dying artist. Andrew Koji and Alan Turkington, playing the barman and gallerist, appreciate the piece’s humour perfectly. Linda Marlowe has the star role, delivering a mesmerising performance that establishes Miriam as another leading lady in the Williams canon.

In this hugely difficult text, few lines of dialogue are completed – a treatment that toys with naturalism while being extremely stylised – so it’s forgivable that the delivery isn’t quite perfect. And yet the stilted language has a distinct and demanding beauty. Key words are isolated and repeated for weight, creating a rhythm to the piece that carries into Miriam’s witty insults, desperation and, finally, transcendental ideas.

Inspired by Japanese poetry, the sensibility is still Williams, making a fusion of East and West that’s often disorientating and exquisitely reflected in the production’s video projections. There are times this play feels like an out-of-body experience – characters describe actions we can clearly observe – compounded by suggestions that Mark and Miriam are really two sides of the same character (get your head around that one). A weird and wonderful play that stands alone and proud.

Until 14 May 2016

www.charingcrosstheatre.co.uk

Photos by Scott Rylander